


Ozone on fire

by deliciously_devient



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Animal Hybrid AU, Dragon!Hanzo, M/M, Soulmates, chimera!jesse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 22:23:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20590070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciously_devient/pseuds/deliciously_devient
Summary: Jesse McCree doesn’t believe in soulmates until he meets his own.





	Ozone on fire

**Author's Note:**

> A few words on this AU; every person has an animal type, and each person is hermaphroditic. The main differences between male/female are primarily in dress. Anyone can go into heat, but generally only people who enjoy/prefer bottoming go into heat. Heats can be triggered by intense arousal, scent bonding, or once a year in fall.

Jesse hangs back when Hanzo Shimada touches down on Gibraltar for the first time. He clings to the rafters near the launchpad, still as the rocks surrounding the base, yellow eyes narrowed as he looks at the dragon. He wants to get a sense of the man before they’re introduced, watch him while he can’t be watched in turn. He promised Genji he would be as welcoming as possible, and to help himself keep his promise, he has to do this. 

While he’s grown used to Genji’s long, constantly twitching ears and his whiplike tail, seeing Hanzo is something of a shock. He is scaled, far more than Genji, the bright blue scales covering his cheeks and neck. He has small horns, like antlers, about six inches or so in length. His tail is thicker than Genji’s, muscled, shining with scales and a neat row of spikes on the last several inches. His ears are longer, perked straight up and constantly swiveling. His eyes are a stark gold, almost glowing, and he’s by far the most animalistic person Jesse has ever seen. 

He’s  _ unfairly  _ attractive. 

He watches the awkward introductions from his perch, observing Hanzo’s tenseness; he’s coiled as though expecting an attack at any moment, and if Jesse were down there he might take offense. But from up here he can see the subtle hints of fear, the suspicion. He doesn’t believe the offer that he was given was genuine, but he came anyway. 

Interesting. 

Jesse slinks along the rafters after the crowd leaves, tail swishing softly behind him as he thinks. He thinks about Genji as he was when they met in Blackwatch, angry, snarling and occasionally approachable. He thinks of Genji as he is now; thoughtful, smiling, joking and laughing, touching freely where before he might have stabbed someone for looking too long in his direction. He thinks of the stories Genji has told him of his upbringing, how Genji’s leash was so much longer than Hanzo’s, how Hanzo was groomed to put the clan above all else, up to and including himself and his family. 

He thinks, and he decides. 

He doesn’t actually meet Hanzo until a week after his arrival; an emergency mission had come up and McCree has been deployed to Nepal to escort some Shambali with Zenyatta to a summit. There had been some Talon activity, but Jesse had taken care of it quickly and quietly, and the summit had gone off without a hitch. 

It’s three AM when the drop ship returns him to the base, and after a parting goodbye, he goes to his quarters to shower. The hot water feels like heaven on his sore muscles, and it feels even better to wash off the grime of travel. He takes special care to dry and brush his tail out to avoid mats, taking the blow drier to it even as he lets his hair hang damp, ears flicking every so often. 

He dresses in a soft, comfortable pair of sweats but foregoes a shirt, shaking out his small wings and preening them carefully. The feathers are dull and the muscles cramped from keeping them tucked tight against his back for the past week, and he thinks wistfully of flying over the vast expanses of the desert as a boy. 

It’s been a long time since his wings could carry his weight, longer still since he’s been able to fly without fear. He thinks of retiring out to a private property, miles away from humanity, and training himself to fly again. He plucks broken red feathers out and sighs, thinking of the times he had someone else to preen his wings, gentle fingers coaxing oil from his glands into his feathers. 

Those days are long gone, now. 

The sun is just dusting the land with icy, pink light by the time he’s done, and his stomach is making loud complaints. He shrugs on a black shirt, tucking his wings carefully against his back, and makes his way to the kitchens. It’s early enough that he doesn’t expect anyone else to be awake, but he’s proven wrong when he arrives. 

Hanzo is sitting at the breakfast nook, staring intently into a cup of tea, tail draped over his wrist; Jesse notes that the spikes he saw earlier are gone, the thin tip wrapped around Hanzo’s pinky. 

“Howdy,” Jesse says, since it doesn’t seem like Hanzo has noticed him; the breakfast nook is a ways away from the doorway, and sure enough, the dragon startles slightly as his eyes snap to Jesse. The gunslinger smiles slightly and walks towards the fridge, hoping there’s something easy to snack on before he sleeps for twenty four hours. 

As he moves toward the fridge, the scent of ozone and rain hit his nose, and he freezes. 

It’s as if every tether he has anchoring himself to his core  _ snaps  _ and he shudders as they reattach to something else,  _ someone  _ else. His heart pounds, his ears pin tight to his scalp and he takes in another long, deep breath. The scent of ozone and rain grows sharper, and he turns, coming face to face with Hanzo, who had moved nearly silently and his hands are fluttering by Jesse’s face as if unsure he’s allowed to touch. His eyes are nearly black, pupils blown out, and Jesse can’t imagine his are much better. 

He leans into Hanzo’s space, hands coming up to wrap around his waist, burying his nose in the crook of Hanzo’s neck and inhaling. The dragon makes a soft churring noise, a rumble that settles in Jesse’s chest and makes him sigh in contentment. Touching Hanzo feels like coming home; feels like  _ pride, flock, family, mate.  _

He can feel warmth rising in his veins, the scent of it wafting up and making Hanzo growl, low and dangerous in his throat. Jesse finds himself being lifted in a bridal carry, and he laughs, wrapping his arms around Hanzo’s neck and holding on as the dragon carries him through the Watchpoint to the living quarters. 

He’s heard of scent-bonding before, hell he’s seen it happen before but he’d never thought it would happen to him. It’s rare, barely understood by science, and Jesse finally understands why it’s so compelling. 

His senses are taken up completely by Hanzo; the scent of ozone, the taste of his skin, the texture of his scales under Jesse’s rough tongue. Everywhere they touch is like fire, and Jesse can feel his heat hitting harder and faster than ever before; they haven’t even made it all the way down the hall and he can feel the slick building between his thighs, his heat-scent thick and cloying in the air. 

It feels like an eternity but Hanzo is pushing him down into a plush nest -he takes a moment to revel in the softness of it, the way it’s designed to almost completely envelop them- covering Jesse with his bulk. Their mouths meet in a hurried kiss, and Jesse is tugging at Hanzo’s clothes, growing impatient as his body burns. The heat is heavy and hot in his veins, and he’s tugging off his own sweats to spread his legs invitingly. The lips of his slit are puffy and warm to the touch when he cups his balls to move them to the side, revealing the tight clench of it. Hanzo growls, and strikes, his long draconian tongue flicking out to taste. 

Jesse gasps as the wet organ laps at him, his fingers clenching in Hanzo’s hair as the dragon works him over. Jesse tries to remember the last time someone ate him out so enthusiastically, but is quickly distracted by that clever tongue curling inside him, finding his prostate with unerring accuracy and laving attention on it. 

“Hanzo,” he gasps, toes curling and tail thrashing. He feels hot and shaky all over, limbs molten as he crests closer to orgasm. He feels unbearably  _ empty, _ however, and he tugs at Hanzo’s hair until the dragon looks up from his meal. 

_ “Fuck me,” _ he snarls, his eyes glimmering yellow in the dim light of the room, and Hanzo is quick to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. His cock is something to behold, long and ridged strangely, with the flare of a knot at the base. Jesse grabs onto Hanzo’s hips, stares the other man in the eye as he lines the tip up and begins to push in. 

It’s like coming home. Nothing in his life has ever felt so right, and he howls as Hanzo fills him to the brim. They’re both completely still as their hips meet, panting, the flare of Hanzo’s knot teasing the rim of Jesse’s slit. 

“Want it,” Jesse pants, licking the shell of one pointed ear. “Wanna feel you knotted up tight.”

Hanzo growls, snaps his hips forward, forcing his knot into Jesse’s hot clench, both of them snarling as they’re locked together. Jesse doesn’t even realize he’s coming until he’s clenching harshly down on the knot, cock spurting between them, shuddering through the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. Hanzo snarls, begins rocking his hips in tight little circles, brushing Jesse’s prostate with every movement. 

It’s too much, too good, and Jesse thinks he passes out for a moment before coming back to himself. He shudders, howls, pants as Hanzo’s hips work, the other man chasing his orgasm even as his knot drives Jesse to distraction. He comes again, more intense, claws popping and digging into the dragons back as his body tightens. The clench of him is too much, and Hanzo lets out a hissing growl, teeth sinking into Jesse’s neck as he comes, surprisingly gentle. 

Jesse can  _ feel  _ him coming, hot and pulsing inside where he’s locked tight. He  _ knows, _ without any sort of confirmation, that he’s been bred. The thought of that only makes the coupling more intense, and Hanzo’s  _ still  _ coming, still filling Jesse up to the brim. 

His teeth ache, and he nuzzles into Hanzo’s neck, licking over his scent glands with a growl before sinking his teeth in deep. His teeth, always sharper than anyone expects, sink right past the protective scales, filling Jesse’s mouth with the taste of blood. It’s metallic, almost sweet, and Hanzo is shuddering over him, making soft, wounded little noises as he’s overwhelmed. 

Jesse can feel it already, the mate-bond settling over the scent-bond, more permanent, binding. All his senses are centered on Hanzo, and when he pulls his teeth out he arches his neck, baring his own scent glands to Hanzo’s razor sharp teeth. The dragon takes the invitation for what it is, sinking his teeth in deep, a rumbling churing noise, almost a purr, reverberating in his chest. 

“Mine,” Hanzo growls when his teeth release Jesse, and the other man sighs in agreement, flexing his thighs around Hanzo’s hips. He bullies the dragon into rolling over, making them both hiss when the movement tugs at the knot, but it’s worth it to see the look of awe on Hanzo’s face when he shakes out his wings. He reaches for the one closest, running gentle fingers over the soft maroon feathers, and Jesse leans into the touch with a sigh. 

“You’re a chimera?” Hanzo asks, soft, his expression some mix of awe and disbelief. 

“Yeah,” Jesse murmurs, laying against the dragons much broader chest, letting his wings splay out as the other man touches them gently. “Got it from my momma.”

Jesse closes his eyes, relaxing into his new mates hold. He’s more lucid now, that the scent bonding is over, and the mating frenzy is died down. They’re gonna have to talk about this, talk to Winston about it, ensure they aren’t put on missions together. He’s going to have to face the fact that he mated a man he doesn’t know beyond what he’s been told, that until a few weeks ago he was dead set on killing him on sight. 

If he’s being honest, those thoughts are still lurking, anger and resentment old and hard divest himself of. He pushes those thoughts back, however; the press of Hanzo’s knot in his slit is distracting, the heat of it making his arousal spike again. His heat isn’t quite over, might not be for a while. 

Everything else can come later. 

  
  



End file.
